Shephard

A collection of dreams I’ve had recently, as written in my dream journal:

050520 Dec 19

Veronica showing someone around as I was tidying up. Saw that she wanted me to tidy one part in particular. Went and began to tidy it…

I fell back to sleep shortly after. Unsure as to what else happened.

ENDS

~

280315 Nov 19

Evac from a metro area with a small GP of people including Daryl (Norman Reedus).

Ended up inside a small compound which was familiar to me and a couple others. We shut off the only entrance to it from the train station.

Things got dark and a small team headed off to a contested area. Me and Daryl teamed up and headed through what looked like barracks. A girl approached us at speed – and despite me wanting to shoot her – she ended up being friendly. She spoke of the teens who’d gone missing from the local school. They seemed familiar.

ENDS

~

270230 Nov 19

Celebrating a birthday when Veronica grabbed me by the neck… and I grasped at her arm, smiling in return.

ENDS

~

It would be unbecoming of myself to engage in fraternisation with the woman who helped start the company I work for… But I can’t say that I haven’t entertained the idea once or twice. Besides – either I make a move, or she’ll make it for me. Everyone at work knows she’s smitten over me; and I have no idea why.

Y’all know that “giggle” women do when they’re real into a guy, right? The one where their voice jumps up a few semitones and they’re practically gushing in front of you? That’s what she does… Whenever I approach her desk to talk about the smallest of things. Can’t say I don’t appreciate the attention, but it doesn’t do much to me these days. Right place; wrong time.

Who the fuck am I kidding with this shit…

Time for another double shot of rum. This one’s for you, SeeSmith

In two weeks time it will have been six months that I’ve lived here in Australia. Friday the 13th is meant to be a day of superstitious hoo-doo and what-not, but the day I arrived here – and all that time since – has been the complete opposite. From initial fears of being away from everyone I know and love, to the adjustment period of getting re-acquainted with the nasally Australian accent – the going has been somewhat tough, but I have, without a doubt, well and truly settled in.

Two months into my new job, and I’m loving every moment of it. Sure, I do clash with the “eat-arse” beat-around-the-bush culture they have, and a few job delegations have left me scratching my head, but for the most part it’s an awesome company to be a part of. The management are firm, fair, and always looking to see you better yourself. My colleagues are an awesome bunch who never clash – in fact, this is one of only two work places I’ve been in where your peers around you are more than happy to lend a hand if you’re in a bit of a pickle. The important part for me is that I continue to just keep my head down and do my job – no screwing around, no dereliction of duties.

I have stable employment at a job I love, and I’m making a decent amount of money. What more can a person ask for?

A place to call my own

Whilst it’s true that I enjoy the company of others, it has gotten to the part where my own mental well-being is beginning to suffer from the incompetence of my… “friend”. Heaven have mercy on his future ex-wife, because this fella wouldn’t know the meaning of the word “clean” even if a Catholic nun bathed him in methylated spirits. Seriously: what kind of heathen puts clean and dirty washing in the same basket?! I could go on, but at the risk of y’all losing even more faith in humanity, I’ll spare you the details.

A new place is on the cards, and that is a priority tasking to say the least. There’s a few nice apartments not far from where I work, so I will have to look into those more intently in the coming weeks. It’s a simple matter of having my own space which I know I can maintain all on my own. Having the freedom to set up a record player in the lounge, a bookcase near the lounge suite, and a small gym in a studio room or such. None of that I can do here; if for no other reason than the fact that I don’t like the layout of this bloody unit. A bathroom that doesn’t smell like a bloody kennel would be nice, too.

…and perhaps once I do have my own place, I can actually entertain some guests.

I’ve made a few friends here already, and have gotten the chance to see a bit more of Sydney in good company. There’s a lot more to this city than I first expected, and I’m really looking forward to seeing even more of it. Making friends is never easy as someone with certain aspects of themselves that they wish to keep under wraps, but allowing yourself the opportunity to interact and feel a part of something once again is an action you must take. “One foot in front of the other” as they say.

~

We’re shifting into winter here, and word is the weather ends up being almost as miserable as back home – which I’m looking forward to after the 40+ Celsius days I’ve had here already. With the seasonal change comes a hopeful change in myself – I somehow managed to eat enough chicken pasta that I now weigh 100 kg. It wouldn’t be so bad if I was still as active as I was in late 2016, but that is not the case at this time. Despite that all, I have the knowledge and drive to better myself once again; all it takes is discipline.

The next six months leading up to my birthday will be nothing short of challenging. But I know I will be rewarded at the end of it – in some rather obvious ways, and in ways which I’ll only be able to discern after some time has passed. Stepping up to the plate and doing my best is what I know I can do, but that hasn’t always been the case. But now – far away from home and on my own (so to speak) – I have no choice but to give it my all and stay the course.

By my actions I’ll be known.

Sydney.

It’s too fuckin’ hot here. No wonder the locals are all bloody miserable.

I miss my superwine biscuits, and tea. The bastard I’m living with is a lazy son of a *****, who continues to avoid doing his fair share of work – his fuckin’ room makes me sick. I suppose the locals are nice enough though. Aside from the questions about my accent that is.

*sigh* Here I am, cleaning up the mess made by someone else. Were it not for my mild(ish) OCD, this house would remain a radioactive wasteland. Bastard…

I have my GTFO fund in case my compensation ends and I still have no job, since Kiwis are treated worse than refugees over here. I just *love* how our governments keep talking up that whole ANZAC spirit bullshit when we all know that it hasn’t meant shit since 1915. So, in saying that, this will more than likely end up being an extended holiday – then I can return home and die afterwards without anyone knowing I even went back.

~

To the post office tomorrow morning, so I can get this tax file number sorted out. I’ll only need to get my ID card after that, then I should be good to go regarding employment opportunities. But otherwise… it’s just gonna be another lonely day at home.

I suppose I’d best get the surrounds squared away tomorrow, after I’ve done my wind sprints that is.

Take it easy, team.

It’s a little warm outside, but here in my corner the air remains chilled to the bone.

Me. The corner. My thoughts.

Things could’ve been different… yet here I am. Fighting to stay alive, only to live in even more pain. The kicker to it all? I brought this upon myself.

I’ll quit my whining soon enough.

[Weapon canted to the left]

– Working parts cocked fully to the rear and back to the front
– CLAP the feed tray cover open
– SWEEP LEFT removing rounds from the tray
– SWEEP RIGHT to ensure no rounds or debris are still in the tray
– SLAM the feed tray cover shut, weapon in the shoulder

[Trigger squeezed, no shot should be fired]

[Weapon canted to the right]

– CLAP the feed tray cover open
– REPLACE the ammunition belt into the feed tray, inline with the feed claws
– SLAM the feed tray cover shut
– Weapon in the shoulder, working parts actioned fully rear to front
– GPS — Tap the GAS plug to ensure its still seated, close the ejection PORT cover, ensure your SIGHTS are still at the correct zero

[Weapon away from the shoulder, await FCO]

The 7.62mm Light Support Weapon (equivalent to the American M240B in application and Mk. 48 in appearance — oddly enough, the LSW weighs more than the MAG58/M240 when loaded) will always be my favourite weapon. Sure, it weighs the same as a few bags of cement and kicks like Ong Bak on a good day, but boy does she tear shit up…

~

Funny how I can remember every little detail about a weapon I haven’t touched in four years, and yet I often forget to take my essentials with me when I venture out into the world. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve arrived at my destination, only to realise an important document or something to that effect has been left back at the house — and that’s despite reminding myself a countless amount of times the prior evening not to forget it. Even thinking about the number of examples I can give has me feeling terrible. Golly gosh…

I’ll stop after the Analytics course. Thankfully this information is easily retained, and that I’m keeping PDF versions of all transcripts for reference. But, no more study after this. I don’t want to live here anymore. This world, this lonely, lonely existence. The responsibilities I never asked for, yet carry out regardless. The constant pain, and internal sorrow. The inability to connect with my peers (and believe me, I’ve fuckin’ tried). The knowledge that the future, though uncertain, is sure to bring more pain and torment than I’m able to deal with.
I’ve done more than I thought I was capable of, and continue to do so in some vain attempt at maintaining the initiative. Well, I reckon I ought to put a stop to that shit right quick, eh? Why bother bettering myself so that some self-serving company can exploit me for all they can in the name of hard work? Do I really want to find myself in another office, working in an environment I know I can’t thrive in? Is jumping ship really going to see a marked improvement in my own situation, and of those I care about?
These are all questions I’ve asked myself a lot in the past few months. One common theme is that of not having anything in support of continuing to live and making these proposed changes. Now, mind you, this was a heck of a lot to process, so don’t you for a second think that I just pulled this out of my arse because “I can’t cope” or some such tripe.

I won’t go back to the hard stuff. There’s no need to when the doc gives me good enough stuff, but the sensation is still the same — euphoria, constant nodding, good feelings all around. No constipation nor the “opiate itch” either, which is a real plus. I may put this all in a bad light, but the fact remains that I’m able to function whilst under the influence, and often forget just how miserable my circumstances are.

…provided I stay within acceptable dosage levels that is.

~

It’s been two years since I went to this part of the ranges. I had a bit of a trek through there yesterday, seeing as they’re thinking of shutting the entire centennial park down due to the dieback disease spreading amongst the kauri trees. The last time I was here I took a few pictures, so I decided to do the same again. It brought back certain memories, but it felt good being in nature again. I even managed to see a tui bathing itself for a good few minutes, before I stumbled on a rock and scared the poor fella away. I hadn’t seen a tui in the longest time either…
I was at home in nature, in the ranges I’ve tramped across countless times. The quiet serenity of nature in all her beauty, and not a single soul to disturb me. Once again, I could bear witness to nature and that from which we came — and to which I shall return.
I could never imagine being that beautiful, but being one part of the entire picture? Yes, perhaps. I can only hope that nature would be so kind as to repurposing my broken corpse into something as beautiful as a kauri tree, or kakapo for that matter. My homeland is truly magnificent, the culture behind it more so. Most have forgotten that connection, but I’ve still kept it — thanks to my family who are no longer here.

I won’t head to Australia. I don’t think I could bring myself to actually live in that bloody place anyhow. Another remnant of 2015 was that of travelling through my country and revisiting places I hadn’t been to in quite some time. So, that’s what I’ll do. With my government assistance ending soon, I’ll be financially set until around Christmas time. I’ll travel from Cape Reinga right down to… Christchurch I reckon. Hadn’t been through there since Burnham and the quakes, and despite my thoughts on the city and its people, I’d do well to pay my respects to those who were lost.
Tauranga remains one of my favourite places, and with summer just around the corner, it ought to be a good time to cruise through the Mount. The Pacific side of the Far North is a sight to behold — the Bay of Islands, and curving back around to Kerikeri ought to do it. Marlborough Sounds and the small town of Picton were a pit stop for me back in ’10, but it seemed like quite the quaint area. The Sounds were gorgeous — from the ferry, in the air, and on foot. Taupo near the lake and Central Plateau. She’ll be chilly, but I’ve always loved that part of the country.

No matter where I go, I just want to enjoy myself. My mind is made up on opting out afterwards — this life of mine, and this world of ours… I’m the round peg still doing its best to squeeze into a damned square hole. Story of my life, all things considered…

“Because I want to see people and I want to see life.”

Not in some futile hope that it’ll convince me that there’s more to this life than the rat race, but because I want to see what it is that keeps others tethered.

“I’m flyin’ to the moon again, dreamin’ about marzipan. Taking all my medicine to take my thoughts away.”

Lady Del Rey… always knows what’s on my fuckin’ mind. Those two lines right there — something sweet, something sour. Sugar, spice, and all things not so nice; just the recipe I needed.

~

My lust for life withered out and died long ago. That sensation of lust long forgotten, along with whatever sex drive I once had. I think about my friends, about those who no longer talk with me, and those who have long since left this world. All I should do is send my thoughts, my love, through the ether, and hope it’ll guide them through the trials they’re all still yet to face. They’re strong, resilient, and know how to adapt to this world and what it’ll throw at them.

All I can say to myself and anyone who’ll bother paying me the courtesy of reading my nonsense is this: everything is gonna be okay.

“I hope that I come back one day. To tell you that I really changed, baby.”

…because I know the universe is cruel enough to keep my soul tethered here long after my physical form has become worm food or fertiliser. Instead of being ghosted, I’ll be the one doing the haunting. Heh.

But seriously: everything is gonna be okay.

101613 Aug 17 (I drafted this earlier today)

– Innovation and Information Technology Management course completed. Pass mark of 92% with four submissions made to community discussion forum. Handouts/transcripts deemed essential to maintaining the knowledge gained from this course have been stored via cloud storage.

– Tomorrow (Friday) slated as rest day. Rolling refresh of foodstuffs and hygiene products to be made at local supermarket.

– Headaches still… problematic. Continuing to manage with strong pain relief and adequate rest. No remarkable change in either symptoms or relief.

– Serviceability checks to be conducted on Mossberg shotgun, Gerber LMF II knife, and field equipment. These have not been serviced in a sustained period of time.

– Next training courses to be conducted: QPR Foundational (Suicide Prevention), Google Analytics, Supply Chain Management. Possibly others.

~

The irony of a suicidal idiot training to prevent others from taking their own lives… Mein Gott!

I don’t like hiding behind this façade of mine. But I know the people around me wouldn’t be able to comprehend what I’m really like. Y’all know what I’m like, so that’s all good. It’s rather difficult trying to sustain some semblance of a social life however, but it’s not an actual priority at this time.

I took a double dose of pain meds @ 1116 hours this morning; it’s now 0043 hours and I’m still in rolling waves of good feelings. No headaches, no other pain issues. Yet I can’t go on forever like this. It’s what I’ve been reduced to, and I’ll never like that fact. It wouldn’t be too hard to overdose on these bloody things seeing how powerful they are… but I’ve still got a job to do.

…for now.

I need a dose of civilisation tomorrow, ‘fore I forget how miserable things really are out there. I have some clothing to donate to the Salvation Army, along with a few other odds and ends which someone may find useful. Savemart (recycled clothing outlet) should have changed their stock since the last time I was there back in January. Wouldn’t mind getting my hands on a nice black trench coat, and maybe another scarf. Mm… Maybe the Middle Eastern store would have a few shemagh in stock — my old green/black one has bloody had it. I should probably shave as well…

I’d have liked to visit the ranges once more, possibly camp out on the trail again. That Avison girl opted out not too far from where I usually tramp through. Back in February… a couple years younger than me… working a job she did well at, with friends/family who seemed to care about her. Still didn’t stop her from shooting herself though. I saw pain in her eyes, much like I did with W.

W…

Three years now. Time sure does fly… Couldn’t find the sister down in Upper Hutt either. Wouldn’t even know what to say. Best left unsaid I reckon. Still have the picture she sent me, still have the herald with her picture on it. Still hear her voice in my head when things get too quiet:

“I don’t know what to do…”

“Uh, an honest attempt [at getting better]? What d’you think I’ve been doing for the past twelve years?!”

“…that means you’re a good person… and you have a heart”.

I wish you were right about that, W.

~

Time for sleep. On a slowly deflating, inflatable mattress, in the dark corner of a marginally warm room.

Years have now passed since that fateful time
Yet those moments still haunt me within memories I cannot forget
Ignorance at the fact and of those events
Do little to quell the emotions within
At once the fuel to the rage and fire blackening my soul
Now strengthens and guides my resolve
“Don’t look back in anger” nor let it seep into the path ahead
But let it be a part in forging the roads on which you shall travel tomorrow

Those words left unspoken should be etched on my grave
Carried to my death and burdening until the end
A centrepiece of dream scapes and many a restless night
Unable to silence nor suppress the urge to relent
Words left unspoken in fear of what I do not know
Yet inside the knowledge is already there
Here I will remain wasting away into the nothingness from which I came
There in the distance she will forever live on

~

Four courses down, four more to go. Barely holding it together as is thanks to the constant migraines. No time (or strength) for anything but studying and trying to look after myself. I was strong at the end of last year. Now… I’m just another fat ****. Haven’t socialised in donkey’s years, and don’t plan on doing so either.
I don’t like watching my country fall apart, rampart with poverty and suicide. A few weeks back I observed a young fella not much younger than myself digging through the bins outside the local KFC as his friends watched on; hopeful for a bite to eat. This was in the middle of the busiest road in the country, adjacent to a large shopping complex. If I wasn’t on the bus, I’d have offered to buy them something. But seeing that, and many other examples during this year… The young, the old… Men, women, and even children…

That’s not to comment on the number of suicides either. We have the worst youth suicide rate in the “developed” world, and yet these idiots down here still wonder why. Huh. That last bit in and of itself is one reason why — perhaps even the reason why. Whilst everyone else is wondering “why, oh why?”, folks such as myself are already sending tiny bits of our brain skyward.
If I commit suicide now, it’s because I know and understand in both heart and soul that I cannot continue to contribute in any meaningful way. Not because I’m lonely, or sick of my gammy leg and the constant migraines. My own self worth is measured by what I can contribute to others, and whether or not it impacts them in a positive way. But given today’s society and the virtue of “instant gratification”, that matters very little in a world where the power of one supersedes that of the empowerment of many.

~

Another thought: In recent weeks I’ve found myself plagued by thoughts of those from my past. I’ve made mention of them here many times through my old posts. One in particular I had told myself I’d contact again if ever I managed to get back on my feet and ensure I was in a good place. As luck would have it, this person has begun to haunt my dreams these past few weeks and it’s really starting to bug me. I do think, however, that this is a good thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re reading this post right now.

~

With an election in a month’s time and no end in sight for my country’s suffering, I find myself disheartened at the slightest thought of this nation’s ills. Voting out the liberals and bringing back the leftist idiots who failed to secure social reforms and institute proper economic stimuli won’t solve any issues. Nor will keeping those liberal bastards in power for that matter. The Westminster style of government is a sight better than that constitutional republic you Spams have to suffer with; but it doesn’t help that we have the same idiots in power half way across the world as you fellas do.

…the fuck am I talking about anyway — I don’t even vote.

If it ever comes to pass that I jump ship to the land of smelly drop bears and horrible taste in alcohol (not to mention terrible pricing), and I do happen to put myself on a stable footing, able to contribute to the community around me — I might just be happy with that. If that doesn’t happen though… Well, let’s just wait and see, eh?

Tomorrow will come, and with it she’ll bring her own set of problems. Men and women of all ages will continue to opt-out of this frightful life. The streets and those who live off of them and the refuse they supply will remain an afterthought of all who travel by their domain. But today, as with most days in this sick nation that I call home; it’s just another day in paradise.

~

Life now is but a constant stream of memories, distorted by the harshness of reality. When sentimentality is your affliction, only the facts will sober you up from your misguided ways. That’s all it amounts to once the dust settles — being misguided, and going against your better judgement.

That’s all I amounted to.

But things have changed. For better or (hopefully not) worse, I have no choice but to discard my old self and embrace a new path moving forward. The path I was always meant to take, but shied away from due to an acute case of loverboy syndrome. Despite it all being in vain; I might as well make the most of it while I still can.

~

The track above is “Shelter” by The xx. Recorded off my Technics turntable and provided for your listening pleasure. The following is my interpretation of parts of the lyrics — make of it what you like.

Can you hear, when I say? I have never felt this way

I’d said that once with any real meaning, and it still remains true for the time when I’d said it. That will be one feeling I’ll never be able to replicate; nor do I want to. Unique only to that relationship, that feeling which I felt I shall never feel again.

I still want to drown, whenever you leave. Please teach me gently, how to breathe

Infatuation is both an intoxicating high and soul-crushing low. It’s thanks to my heart that I never truly understand this feeling, and the reason why I’ll avoid it as much as I can going forward. I s’pose if I ever do forget to breathe in future, someone can just give me a good slap on the arse and I’ll be sweet.

And I’ll mirror images back at you. So you can see the way I feel it too

It’s those unspoken words which only your body can speak that really say the most. In fact, those are the very which I pay attention to the most. Although in today’s social media-centric society it’s becoming a lost art. Where teenage girls are running around pretending to cough into their arm from smoking left over resin; you’d wonder why they’d look at someone weirdly for noticing their lips pert at the sight of their companion.

I find shelter, in this way. Under cover, hide away

Shelter from overexposure to the horrors of modern society. Under the covers of my oft-stoic disposition. A hide away for my heart; so it may never lead me astray again.

Compassion and understanding will always be my foremost personal qualities, and I’ll continue to display them for as long as I may live. But knowing the darkness which almost snuffed me out the last time — I shall endeavour to not let my heart get involved. One day, if I happen to live to an age of greater understanding of myself, I may let it back in. But until then; under cover I’ll remain.

(…or y’know, hiding in the bush somewhere.)

Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it”.

– Terry Pratchett

Look after yourself; look after one another. Best of luck to you all.

– T

…can’t believe it’s almost my fuckin’ birthday again. Either I have something to show for it this time around or I… end up hating myself even more. But seeing that I’ve been at war with myself for the past decade; the latter seems the most likely to happen.

“All you need is some peace while you are here” — That’s a tall order for someone who’s been surrounded by violence in one form or another since their birth, Ms. Grant. I’ll carry your words though.

~

The first week of September will mark the start of my “internship” (as you Spams would call it) at an IT firm in the more affluent part of my fair city, which figures since the people I saw at the place looked like a bunch of wimps and… Well, they looked like typical civilians, since I really must say so. I’ll need the soothing vocals of Ms. Grant caressing my mind, or else I’ll nut out and kill someone. Not because I’m a psychopath, but because people just don’t get it! Whether you try to ease their way of thinking carefully into how you operate or make them understand, you won’t win. That being said, I’ll behave myself and get as much experience as I can… but the first person who looks at me sideways or makes any snide comments about me is gettin’ thrown through a fuckin’ window and a couple broken bones. I know I’m fuckin’ weird — you don’t need to remind me, fuckwit.

“You have a right to live your life” — Too bad that not every person nor situation will accommodate that fact. Nor do i suspect that that was ever really the case for me. Living in service to, because of, and for others doesn’t sound like living at all. Not as an individual anyway. I simply exist to persist; and I’m nothing if not a persistent bastard. Shame on me.

~

Earlier this year I’d catch the morning bus to course. There was a red-haired girl with the cutest freckles I ever did see who caught the same bus. I’d tell myself I caught the bus because I needed to rest my foot, but truth is I just caught it to sit beside her (and fah fook’s sake Tommy, ’twas only ah ten minnut hike, ya bastahd!). Once I was beside her, I didn’t say shit. I’d programmed myself to not establish any interpersonal relations with anyone, despite the one “glitch” I had with the trainee flight attendant at around the same time (which ended very quickly once a hotfix was deployed for said glitch), so nothing came of it. Still, it’s hard to forget a redhead… and sadly she hadn’t forgotten me. As I made a mad dash for my bus on Thursday just gone, we made eyes for but a few seconds. My face said “oh shit, she’s seen me!” as her’s had the look of “…there you are!” She looked surprised. Shocked, even. But with a hint of happiness. Personally I blame my fuckin’ suit, or perhaps… perhaps my decision to wear my red tie that day… *X-files theme plays*

A few hours went by and I returned to the city. I happened upon a record store which sells stuff mainly by local artists, so I decided to try my luck and get a particular record by a favourite Kiwi band of mine. Long story short: they had the record, and I fell in love with the girl who served me. Too bad I was being a fuckin’ weird **** again… But I did say I’d be back next week to pick up a few more records. At least this time I won’t look like a moron and actually be focused on her amazing hazel eyes and awesome taste in– I mean, just the music, yes… Y’know, I’m going to stick to the no friendship/relationship thing for a long time to come. Reason: I’m still not happy with my life, or myself. Getting outsiders involved in that is just asking for trouble. It’s good to dream; just remember to wake up.

Lastly, I could always have a proper stroke and die anyway. Way I see it is that everyone will click into place for me, I’ll branch out to make new friends and progress with my career. Once it’s all going smoothly, I’ll die. Oh yeah, you can fuckin’ laugh at me for talking like that, but that’s the feeling I get from this whole fiasco I’m dealing with. Things just feel too right for something not to go wrong. I say this because my head still doesn’t feel right, and truth be told — it probably never will feel right again.

“Just let go of it all, dear” — Don’t lemme hear that in my sleep, because I just might do so.